The rain in Spain…

Just outside Monfragüe, after packing everything up and returning to the road, a bunch of cows invaded what was my campsite. So that was close.

I would end up spending almost the whole day in the middle of nowhere, among pine woods and farmers’ fields, having to make 5km detour to a town in the middle of the day just to stock up on food and water. I also arranged to have a replacement clip for the saddlebags to be delivered the next day to a bike shop in Oropesa. Before the day was up, I would get my first little glimpse of snow.

Despite the ever-present Sierra de Gredos on the horizon, these days have been mostly flat terrain, which isn’t that great tfor photo-ops. However, when I took a rest, I took the opportunity to take a selfie with a stork

Proof with the decent camera, just so you don’t need to take my word for it.

Then I picked a campsite and prepared for what would be my first rainy night while camping. It was predicted there would be up to 2.5mm/h at one point and I’d never camped in the rain before, so I dug a little trench around the tent, to try and keep me dry. I thought the campsite would be great, because no cars passing by would see the tent. And then, some kids on bikes went by and spotted it. And then some guys on foot. It was already nighttime, I was on public land, and they just passed through, so I figured I wouldn’t let my preparation go to waste. I’d chance it. Fortunately, I woke up by myself and I was dry. I was feeling a bit ill, though, so I waited for the rain to pass before getting going. When I went outside, the mountains were quite a bit whiter.

I didn’t miss all of the rain, in fact, at one point, when I stopped to get my rain gear out, it the stopped raining. It felt like I had a personal cloud on top of me:

Dry road, just ahead of where I geared up

I went through some fields, then saw a rainbow.

And then a double rainbow:

A double rainbow, though not all the way across the sky. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t a religious experience.

The day would consist mostly of gravel roads, mostly through some sort of shared access farms. Sadly, I didn’t make it through by sundown, so I slept in a really windy meadow, which was visible for many km, so I decided I’d leave before the sun was up. This was the last shot of that day.

I crossed the border into the region of Castilla-La Mancha, which is Spanish for “cold, windy, rainy, miserable place”. It was now Saturday. Now normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. However, it was a town holiday in Oropesa, so the bike shop was closed. Since I felt ill, I really wanted a bed, so I decided I’d speed my way on to Talavera de la Reina, where lodging was much cheaper, and then take some kind of bus back to get the parts I needed. So… I took the highway. “What?!” – I hear you say. It’s actually legal to ride a bike on the shoulder at Spanish autovías. It was pretty jarring after days of hearing mostly crickets and birdsong, but otherwise it felt pretty safe and, with a tailwind, the kilometers went by fast. I then arrived at Talavera, a place much more in line with my expectations of a Spanish town.

I got settled in with Blag in my AirBnB room and got ready to wait for the weekend.

Sunday I was still pretty out of it, so I stayed in most of the day, and went to dinner, and sampled a rather disappointing local beer.

It felt like any old boring industrial stout. Worse than some , in fact.

I then took the train to Oropesa, where things were… stressful. The store’s opening time on Google Maps was posted as 10:00. I got there at 10:25, and the opening time on the sign there was 10:30. I thought… “OK, I have a bus at 11:35, I’ll take breakfast, it’ll be fine”. After breakfast, however, there was still no one there. I called the guy, who said he “had an emergency” and would take around a half hour more. This left me with some time to explore the rather lovely town, which still had some decorations from the holiday on display.

Looks like a Portuguese insignia to me. Not sure what this was doing there. Maybe this is from Ceuta?

Getting back to the bike shop, it was already 11:32, and no sign of the guy. I’d given up, when he told me he’d just arrived. The bus stop was pretty close, and there was no sign of the bus, so I went there, got the part, and got on the bus. It was 11:35. If the bus had been on time, it wouldn’t have been possible.

However, it all went well. I got back and fitted the clips on the saddlebags. It felt good no longer needing to MacGuyver luggage straps to get the saddlebags to stay on.

I thought while I was there, I’d visit Talavera de la Reina and… it was a waste of time. It’s a truly dreadful, samey, not very well though-out city, which makes you feel really unwelcome if you’re not in a car. The coolest thing about it is actually a bridge.

This is a bike path, and I’m not actually on the saddle. If I was and I didn’t duck, I’d hit my head on the ceiling.

There’s pedestrian crosswalks that make go all the way around the intersection, bike paths where you need to turn 90 degrees on a dime and still look behind you for traffic, and… forget it. I’ll just leave you with the good shots.

That’s four good shots… in quite a big town.

Back on the saddle, it was time to head to Toledo on a good, though somewhat busy, road. I stopped at an olive tree field and stayed for the night… and the next day, ’cause I still wasn’t feeling well. I had food and water, mom! I swear!